


Silver Bullet Symphony

by KirkwallsChamp



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-01 07:53:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10184483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KirkwallsChamp/pseuds/KirkwallsChamp
Summary: Growing up, they told you stories about how you shouldn't go out alone at night. They said that monsters linger in the darkness, and that there's always going to be something more terrifying than death.Janna thought she finally understood what that meant, the night her parents died.All she could remember was a haze; blood, smoke, more carnage than she could have imagined, and worse-- faces she recognized. People she knew and loved, and beyond that, a sickening revelation that things were now far out of her control.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> as always, comments and questions are appreciated!

The world was swimming in and out of focus as Janna awoke, unable to feel her hands and feet. They'd been attacked in the dead of night, after an elaborate party her family held, as her father's former friend and confidant, Rendon Howe, took advantage of their hospitality for the last time. They'd been cornered against the back doors in the kitchen and for all intents and purposes, slaughtered. Somehow, it seemed, Janna had survived-- had it not been for her father's _other_ guests for the evening-- Duncan, and his young pledge, Alistair.

It hadn't been made clear to her, why so many people decided to visit that night, but as her eyes dulled against the bright florescents above them, she decided she shouldn't put forth the effort to care right now. She was cold, and the voices speaking above her were so far away now.

"--Are we going to do?"

"What do you mean, Alistair?"

"I mean, we--" The ruddy haired boy glanced down, noticing Janna's eyelids flutter for the first time, "Wait, Duncan,"

He pointed down at her.

"I see," Concern was etched in the graying man's voice, "She doesn't have much time."

Janna could taste only iron, her throat dry as she attempted to speak.

"Who are you?"

The one called Alistair stooped, putting a hand on her shoulder softly, "Don't-- You've been badly injured..."

"Your father was Bryce Cousland, was he not?" Duncan interjected, his voice coming from what seemed like miles away.

"Yes," she groaned weakly, "What's going on?"

"Bryce Cousland's only daughter, Janna," Duncan spoke to Alistair now, "You see it, don't you?"

"Duncan..." Alistair stood once again, facing his mentor, "You can't seriously--"

"No, no," he countered, "I think you can see as well as I can, the fact that she's still alive is--"

A cough wracked her suddenly, throwing both men's eyes on her. She felt cold all over now.

"It's all over, isn't it?" She struggled to form the words, though she felt she knew the answer-- she'd seen the way Howe's men had massacred her parents, and only assumed she'd blacked out when they fell upon her.

"You _are_ close to death, girl," Duncan answered, his voice softening slightly, "But, you do not have die now."

"Duncan--" Alistair began to protest, but a look from the other man quieted him quickly.

"We need you," He continued, "But only if you are willing to do as we say. You will be bound to us, and will need to do as we ask. With these conditions, do you want to live?"

"I--"

She coughed again, her mouth now slick and red.

"You'll need to make your decision soon. They'll be coming back eventually-- to feast," There was grave sentiment in Alistair's voice, his face growing more and more stony by the minute.

"I s-should stay," Janna wrestled out, "with my parents. My f-father, he died thinking t-that Howe--"

"That is a foolish notion. He wanted you to live," Duncan interrupted, "You have the opportunity to survive, and see that Rendon Howe's plans fail."

"Duncan," Alistair's brow furrowed as he glanced toward the kitchen's entrance, "It's now or never."

"Ms. Cousland," Duncan said solemnly, "We need to hear your choice. We will not stay to defend a corpse, and if we're honest, you were ours from the beginning."

As he bent over her, he tapped on a mark on her forearm. She felt nothing there, despite his touch, only numbness.

"Fine," she forced through her parted lips, "I want t-to live, if only to get r-revenge."

"Good girl," Duncan nodded firmly.

He turned back to listen as Alistair spoke, "We need to move. Help me get her to her feet-- There's a back door behind us where we can get outside to the van."

"No. We can't afford to," Duncan shook his head, "Alistair, if we move her, she will not make it to the truck. It has to be here, and now."

" _What_?"

"You heard me, Alistair. I'll cover the door." Duncan drew his weapons, two long barrel pistols, as he motioned for the young man to move to her side.

"I-- Yes, Duncan," Alistair stooped his head slightly as he moved, now crouched beside her. He took her wrist gently, looking as her fingers limply folded in response, "I'm sorry."

Without further ado, he latched his teeth hard on the thick blue vein of her wrist-- suddenly her nerve endings were on fire, and she could feel everything at once. The blood ripped through her wounds, forced out of her as her instincts to fight flared alive.

A scream caught in her throat, and for a moment no sound would come out-- just intense, agonizing pain.

"No, stop--" Her words found her at last, as she scrabbled weakly against his sharp teeth, pushing away with all her might, " _Please, it hurts! Stop!_ "

"Quiet her," Duncan's words were not so much sharp as they were direct, "Or they'll know what's going on."

"I'm _sorry_ ," Alistair apologized again, his words mouthed around her wrist as he continued to drain her. His other hand planted firmly over her mouth, strangling her noise slightly as she continued to scream in agony.

"It will all be over soon," Duncan promised, as Janna's eyes began to roll back in her head.

Everything was searing pain, and then everything went dark.


	2. Drive

Janna awoke to the sound of gravel crunching under tires, laying cramped sideways in the back seat of a sixteen passenger van. She began to stir slightly, a little sleepy groan escaping her, when a voice piped up beside her.

"You're awake,"

There was a smile in his voice, as the boy from before shifted-- she realized her head had been in his lap as she'd slept. She jumped, sliding as far away from him as she could, glancing nervously from him to the back of Duncan's head, as he continued to drive onward.

"You were out for so long, I thought maybe we'd been too late, or that I'd done something wrong or--"

"Who are you? Where am I? Just what the _fuck_ is going on?"

Everything came back in a flash. _The blood, the carnage, the smoke, her parents. The searing, agonizing pain._ She lifted her wrist in horror, to see a scarred bite mark, and her clothes thoroughly caked in dry blood.

 _Blood_. It smelled disgusting, and yet-- there was a sense of allure to it.

Suddenly her stomach was on fire, begging for something-- she didn't know what. She just knew she was ravenous.

"Calm down," Alistair raised his hands in defense, "Let me try to explain. My name is Alistair, and that's Duncan. We're Grey Wardens--"

She snorted.

"Yeah, right, Grey Wardens?"

The Grey Wardens were a fairy tale; a shadow order said to maintain balance in the powers of the governing world, and watch from the depths, to keep the peace. They were some of the monsters parents used as a cautionary tale, and a vague threat for misbehaving kids. They couldn't be real, not in this day and age-- and if they were, what were they doing in Highever?

Her stomach gave another strong pang, this time making her double over with a groan.

"What's going on?" She moaned through gritted teeth, "My stomach, I'm so--"

"Oh, right-- you're bound to be hungry," Alistair finished for her, scooting closer despite her protests. He pulled the sleeve of his navy blue shirt back, revealing a freckled forearm to her, "Here."

She didn't know why, but something flared in her chest when he did so.

"Here, what?"

He motioned again with his closed fist facing palm up, "You need to drink."

"No, _what_?"  
  
He rolled his eyes, "Duncan? Maybe you want to help a little bit?"

"Ms. Cousland, what's the last thing you remember?" Duncan asked from the driver's seat, not bothering to look back.

She considered for a moment before answering, "The dinner party... I went to bed afterward, and-- My parents-- They were bleeding out on the kitchen floor, and you-- You _bit_ me!"

The horrified look she gave Alistair seemed to wound him, if only slightly, as he withdrew his arm.

"You were dying!" he answered indignantly.

"So were my parents-- and you just _left_ them there!"

"Ms. Cousland, your parents were dead before we arrived," Duncan interjected coolly, "We saved everyone we could, and it was only by chance we stumbled on you in the kitchen. The smell of blood is what drew us there, and, no doubt you're sensing it in the same way now."

"Blood?"

"Yes. We need it to survive," The matter of fact way Duncan stated this made it seem like a cruel joke to Janna.

"All humans do," Janna muttered sarcastically, doubling over again as another shudder left her.

"He _means_ we need to ingest it," Alistair clarified, softly, "To live."

"Ugh--"

The disgusted noise was met with no reactions from either man.

"You need to drink," Alistair said again, trying to be firm with her, "Please. I know it's not pleasant, but if you don't drink soon, then--"

"You really will die," Duncan finished curtly, "Do as he commands."

"Commands?" Janna began to scoff, when she suddenly felt compelled. Alistair raised his wrist to her again, and her cool fingers brushed his flesh, which was surprisingly warm to the touch.

"Please," he begged one last time, "Drink. It's important for... for our bond. It won't hurt me like it did you, so,"

Tentatively she took his wrist, and drew it to her lips.

"Just... Just bite?"

"Just bite," he nodded, swallowing hard. He looked nervous.

She could smell the blood beneath his skin, inviting her to taste--

She was simultaneously stricken with desire, and disgust, but did as she was bade. Feeling her canine teeth extending slightly, another altogether disturbing feeling that quickly faded as she pierced him. She drank greedily from him, her eyes clenched shut with the effort, feeling him flex his fingers as she drained him.

"That's right," he gritted his teeth slightly, "You can feel your strength returning, can't you?"

She nodded, moving his wrist with her.

Duncan chuckled from in front of them, "Don't let her take all of it, now."

"Ah-- He's right," Alistair nodded, beginning to pull away from her, "Just enough to complete the contract--"

She felt her fangs dislodge from him when he pulled back, and a needy groan escaped her as a drip of blood trailed down her chin, "<Wait>\-- What contract?"

"The Vampire code," Alistair answered quietly.

" _The Vampire code._ " She repeated incredulously, "I'm sorry, what the fuck?"

He groaned.

"It's a contract, alright? You agreed to make the change in order to live, and I drained your blood. When your body made the change, I gave it back. It's a symbol of our symbiotic relationship, as thrall and host. It also makes sure that you retain yourself throughout the process."

"Fucking-- Vampires, huh? You know how ridiculous that sounds?" Janna groaned, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes in aggravation, "Right. Grey Wardens, now fucking Vampires. So now what-- I'm your... your _thrall_? What does that mean? I'm your servant? Forced to do your bidding?"

"No, not really... It's not that simple," he protested, "There are some requests for your well-being that can't be ignored, like telling you to feed,, but I can't directly force you to do anything you don't want to-- Duncan? Maybe you can offer some insight?"

"Oh no, I think you're explaining it quite well, Alistair," there was an undeniable chuckle as Duncan shrugged without turning around, continuing to let Alistair twist in the wind for a moment before intervening, "He is right, however, it _is_ a symbiotic relationship. You're stronger when the other is around."

Janna looked mystified, "Just what does _that_ mean? How can you be _laughing_ about all this? swinging back to my point that everything you just said is completely unbelievable!"

"I know," Alistair sighed, "But take a deep breath and think about it for a second. You tasted blood, and now how do you feel?"

She went silent for a beat, allowing herself to actually process how she was feeling. The stomach cramps had subsided, and in truth, she felt more rejuvenated thn she   
had in years.

"I guess I do feel... better," she muttered.

"We are Vampires. But, we're also Grey Wardens, which are technically a peace-keeping order," Alistair shrugged, "Maintaining balance between the other covens has been our job for centuries."

"Maintaining balance? And _what_ other covens? You mean there's more of you?!"

"Us," Alistair corrected her, carding a hand through his hair. Janna noticed with morbid curiosity that the deep wound she'd inflicted on his wrist had already stopped bleeding and was beginning to knit itself back together.

"Have you been trained in combat before, Ms. Cousland?"

The question came seemingly out of nowhere, catching her off guard.

"I-- I learned self defense, before I went to college," She sputtered, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Alistair will have to train you with firearms, then," Duncan continued, ignoring the question, "Once we make it to the palace in Ostagar. I'm sure Cailan won't mind if we borrow his firing range for the evening."

"Wha-- Firearms?!" Janna began to protest.

"A necessary precaution," Duncan waved the question away, "King Cailan asked the Grey Wardens to personally oversee the security at his private banquet, while he and Teryn Loghain hold a landsmeet-- they're thinking of coming to some sort of agreement about opening Ferelden's borders to Orlais."

"For the first time in what's got to be around 40 years," Janna nodded breathlessly, "Since before King Maric..."

"Indeed," Duncan continued, "And, while you two are out training, I have the initiation of two more members to oversee. It shouldn't take long."

"Daveth and Jory," Alistair nodded, "An ex-con and a soldier from Redcliffe. They weren't the <most> promising leads, but the Wardens numbers aren't what they used to be, so we're interviewing who we can."

"Interviewing?" Janna snorted, "How do you convince them, if they're not dying like I was?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?"

This time, Duncan did actually glance back, meeting Alistair's uncomfortable gaze, before the van went quiet.

He cleared his throat, before speaking seriously.

"Ms. Cousland, there are a lot of things I'm about to tell you that you are not going to like."


	3. Process

_The primary covens in Ferelden were apparently under the crown-- King Cailan and his wife Anora seemed to be one, and Teryn Loghain seemed to be another. There was mistrust growing between the two covens, however, as Cailan begged Loghain to consider reopening Ferelden's borders._

_This wasn't something that bothered Janna-- when she found out, she simply shrugged-- royalty always has its secrets, and in a world where magic is as easily accessed as food and water, what would make monsters any different?_

_No, what made her angry was the series of statements that came next, as they unloaded from the vehicle to their quarters in the palace at Ostagar._

 

"You have a brand on your forearm, do you not? A small griffin, stamped at birth?"

Janna found herself clutching her arm as she followed the two men down the garden path, to where men clad in black and gold stood at attention.

"Yes...?"

"What does that mark signify to you?"

"My mother told me it was a blessing and an honor, from her side of the family," she answered uneasily.

"And you have a brother, yes?"

"If you know, why are you asking?" She snapped impatiently.

"He doesn't share this mark, does he?"

Janna looked over at Alistair, who avoided her gaze altogether, "No, no he doesn't. My mother said it was always given to the women of her family."

"Yes," Duncan nodded, "A tactic meant to preserve the lineage of her noble blood, no doubt."

"Excuse me?"

"The griffon, wings outstretched, is the symbol of the Grey Wardens, as I'm sure you are familiar. This mark, however, is not always the blessing your mother claimed-- though many would still consider it an honor."

Janna's heart hammered in her chest as he continued.

"You remember my saying, just before you were turned, that you were ours _from the beginning_?"

"You can't be serious," She whispered, stopping dead as the realization set in.

"It is common," Duncan's deadpan matter of fact speech on the matter failed to bring her any comfort, "for the second born of minor nobles, particularly daughters, to be willed to one coven or another for protection. Some choose to support the crown, others support other minor covens if they're so <coerced>, and some... some hope for peace. Like your parents."

"No." Janna's voice was firm, in the same way she rooted to the spot, glaring between the two men, "No, it can't be."

"This obligation did not mean your parents loved you any less," Duncan said, giving her a pitied look, "No one knows when Grey Wardens are going to come to collect their rites. Your mother likely had the mark too, and was brought up the same way you were."

"So what-- As a baby, my parents decided to let me become a monster if some random men came to their door?" She nearly shouted, seething.

"Lower your voice," Duncan warned her, ushering her to move onward with a severe look, "And I will continue to explain when we are out of eavesdropping distance."

A gentle hand on the back of her arm begged her to move onward, as Alistair brought up the rear. She jerked away from his touch, however, finding herself mortified and disgusted with the insinuation that she was born to be some sacrifice for her family.

 _Would they have simply eaten her if she'd denied her chance to live again?_  She shuddered.

She felt like she was going to throw up-- all the hurt, anger, resentment and sorrow that came with this realization were flooding her system at once-- Janna wanted to desperately for this to be a nightmare she could wake up from.

They paused in front of heavy wooden doors, for which Duncan mentioned receiving a key when they'd checked in at the gates. He produced it, sliding the heavy bolt back with a click, and ushered his young charges inside.

"Ms. Cousland, I understand that this comes as quite a shock-- But know that it was only done under the gravest of circumstances."

"Your mother begged us to take her instead," Alistair interjected, his voice wavering slightly, "And we were going to, until..."

She turned on him, fangs bared, "Is that supposed to make me feel _better_?!"

His mouth shut with a quiet little snap.

"Leave her be for a moment," Duncan warned, "She needs time to process. Meanwhile, I need you to help with the preparations, Alistair."

They stepped back into the hall, and Janna heard the lock click behind her.

_Great, she was essentially their prisoner._

With a flare of anger, Janna balled her hand into a fist, slamming it against the door. It splintered slightly, giving way with a crunch, as her knuckles vibrated like they were made of iron.

that was new.

  
She sighed, surveying the room-- it was furnished with a few soft looking beds, dressed in the king's colors, a floor length mirror and two large polished wooden chests of drawers. A door off to her right was closed tightly, though she assumed it connected to a bathroom. She hoped it did, at least.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, suddenly aware that she was still wearing clothing that was utterly soaked in her own blood. She held the hem of her shirt between her thumb and forefinger, rubbing at the crusted liquid in disgust.

She wanted to shower. She wanted to rest.

 _Do vampires even need sleep?_  
  
The question seemed odd-- but, with that question came others; when would she need to feed next? Could she go outside during the daytime? It was morning, but the sun hadn't yet come up as they'd entered the building-- the room she was in now contained no windows, either.

They'd left her with so little information, and yet she still felt so overstimulated. Her whole world had changed-- shattered in a matter of hours.

Duncan was right, she needed to process, but she didn't even know where to start.

* * *

"Janna? Can I come in?"

Muffled though the voice was through the door, Janna recognized it.

"Alistair? J-just a second!"

"Okay?" Came a dampened reply.

She shuffled around a moment before giving up completely and calling out to him, "Fine. Come in, just-- promise me you won't laugh, alright?"

The door unlocked as Alistair opened it, stepping inside before he turned to face her, "What? What do you mean, don't--"

And immediately a wide grin set on his face, which he attempted to hide with a broad hand.

"Ooh--"

She glared daggers at him, "What did I just say?!"

"No, no, it's quite cute, actually--" he chuckled, ducking out of the way as she swung at him.

She stood before him in a pair of over sized men's pajamas-- she nearly swam in the shirt, while the pants were tied as tight as they could go around her waist, pooling dramatically at her feet.

"They're all I could find in this stupid room--" She protested, sounding miserable, "I wanted to wash off all the blood, and I can't really go back to wearing the other ones--"

"I understand, it's alright," Alistair reassured her, leaning his back against the door and taking in the sight for a moment longer, "But who were those _made_ for? you could fit at least two of the king in there, three if you really wanted to."

" _I know_ ," She groaned, "I look ridiculous."

"Hey, relax," Alistair pushed off the door, giving her a little pat on the shoulder, "We have some clean uniforms in the van. I can run out and grab them for you, just--"

"Isn't it daytime?" She interrupted.

"I-- Yeah, so?" Alistair looked as if he didn't follow.

"So-- Daytime? Vampires?" her hand motions begged him to follow her train of thought.

"Oh- Oh!"

This time he genuinely laughed, hard and without reservation, "Maker's breath! That's-- That's an old wive's tale-- _Oh, Andraste's flaming sword I can't breath_ \--"

" _Not_ a proportionate reaction," Janna huffed, growing pink in the face, "How am I supposed to know what's real and what's fake?!"

"We'll teach you," He chuckled, quieting his outburst, "Just let me go get you some properly fitting clothes. I'll be right back."

 

He returned a short while later with a pair of thick pants, a white tank top and a heavy jacket, apologizing that they too were all he could find.

Janna didn't mind, however-- they were tighter than the pajamas, and the navy blue outfit didn't seem to call attention to her in the long run. She changed quickly, tossing the pajamas to the floor along with her old clothes before joining him once more.

"Huh, we match," Were all the words he could find when she looked him up and down.

"Now then, let's go do whatever you came here for," She shrugged off the comment. The look he was giving her felt... odd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, comments and questions are appreciated!


	4. Reaver

As they walked to the firing range, Alistair asked Janna all sorts of questions, likely probing how she was feeling.

She admitted that she was still ultimately very upset, but felt determined to put on a calm face, for the moment at least.

Rounding the corner and heading into a dimly lit stairwell, he asked once more, "So you've really taken a self defense class? Like the _that's my purse!_ kind?"

Janna nodded, rolling her eyes, "Mmmhmm-- it was taught by a good friend of mine, Sister Leliana."

He crinkled his nose somewhat at the mention of a Chantry sister, which surprised her, "What? Not a chantry boy?"

"Oh, the Revered Mothers and I have a complicated history," he shrugged, "Maybe I'll tell you about it some time."

She rolled her eyes again, "If you say so."

They followed the stairs until they ended abruptly, a metal door essentially barring their path. Alistair didn't seem phased, however, as he pounded on the slab with intention.

"Hello? Ash Legion? This is Alistair-- I'm one of the Grey Wardens Duncan asked to allow into the training area. Can we come in?"

They could hear shifting behind the door, before the hinges ground open with a groan.

A sullen looking man greeted them-- well, greeted wasn't quite the right word-- as he simply stood aside to let them pass wordlessly.

The room beyond was stark, bare and white. There were a few stalls, marked off with what looked like Plexiglas dividers, and far on the other side of the wall, several targets hung at the ready.

"You have the room," he said, settling back against the wall from whence he came, "Cailan's men need the room at 4, and he'll want you cleared out by then."

Alistair nodded resolutely, promising, "we will be," before beckoning Janna to join him at a gun rack against the back wall.

"So..." Janna attempted to probe him for information on what to expect. Without a leading question, however, the attempt fell flat.

"Here we are," he said awkwardly, instead, "What do you want to know?"

She was flabbergasted.

"I guess... everything? About everything."

"Oh," he seemed embarrassed, "I-I just meant about this crash course, not--"

It was Janna's turn to look confused, "me too?"

He cleared his throat, "ah," and reached for two pistols off the rack, handing one to her.

"Let's start with the basics, then."

"So, point and shoot, then?" She asked, attempting to line up the sight with one eye closed.

"Not exactly," he put a hand on the pistol to break her concentration for a moment, "more like... let me show you where the safety is. Also, if you aim like that and aren't anticipating it, the gun's gonna kick back and give you a pretty bad black eye."

She cocked an eyebrow at him, "Vampires can get black eyes?"

He shrugged, "they don't stick around long, but long enough to bruise your pride."

"Speaking from experience, then," she chuckled.

"Maybe a little," he agreed with a slight flush.

"Well, okay then-- show me the basics, I guess," she said, deferring to him on what to do next.

* * *

 

As the lesson progressed, Alistair began to loosen up slightly-- his nerves relaxed, and they began to regard each other with a bit more familiarity. She quizzed him on vampire myths and facts, and he obliged with relative ease.

Vampires weren't repelled by garlic, or depictions of Andraste's holy Pire, nor were they effected by daylight. Silver was, however, an effective deterrent it seemed.

"Oh yeah, burns like hell," he nodded, showing her his rough fingertips, calloused and just slightly pink, "the bullets we're using for practice aren't anything special, but tonight? You'll have to wear gloves to load your gun, and even then it won't be pleasant."

  
They moved on to loading, and then actually firing the weapon soon after. Janna watched with a certain amount of intention as Alistair lined up his sight, and, after bracing himself, pulled the trigger. It was all very precise, methodical, and-- though she hated to admit it-- kind of a turn on.

"I'm not the best shot," he said, after the fact, his fingers sliding up the back of his neck, "but I can hit a target just fine. Want to try?"

She nodded, her mouth uncomfortably dry.

Why was she suddenly so nervous? His bronze gaze had her tripping up ever so slightly. She choked up her grip on the pistol as she attempted to clear her mind.

"No, no-- here, do you mind if I--"

Suddenly he was behind her, his wide chest spread across her back as his long arms encircled her. His hands slipped over her own, and his knees bent to fit hers from behind, nudging her to bend until she matched him.

"Bend your knees a little bit, like that... yeah. See? Doesn't that feel better?"

Her heart hammered in her ears. She was probably flushing visibly.

_What are you doing?!_ she reprimanded herself, _remember how he changed you? He made you this thing_.

A tick of anger swam to the surface at the reminder. He WAS the one who bit her, and robbed her of her humanity.

"Janna?" His voice called her back to the moment, "Pull the trigger."

She cocked the gun and squeezed, releasing two rounds in quick succession. Alistair dropped his position from behind her, letting out a little surprised laugh.

"You're a natural!"

Janna's ears were ringing, however, as her senses swam around for a moment. Her vision was going hazy, a red tinge coloring everything.

"Alistair--"

She could still feel his warm breath on the back of her neck, raising her hair unintentionally.

"Janna, what's--"

"I need you to back up-- now," she rasped out, feeling her fangs extending, entirely out of her control.

Alistair seemed only slightly surprised, backing off quickly and holding his hands out in surrender, "alright, just relax. I'm moving away, just like you asked. Take a deep breath."

Her voice was shaky, "what's going on?!"

"Breathe," he stated again, gently, "we call it _reaving_. Over the first 24-48 hours of your changeover, your body is processing everything at once-- any change in   
hormone levels, mood elevation, sudden heart rate changes-- it can throw you off, and make you rage. We all went through it-- you, me, Duncan, King Cailan, hell, even   
Howe--"

That did it.

" ** _What?_** "

Alistair regretted the mention immediately, know what he'd done. He attempted to backpedal, "Janna, I--"

"Howe's one of you-- us?!" She corrected, sputtering as her mind whirred to life, warning signs going off in her head like road flares.

_Red._

_Hazy._

"I thought you should know," Alistair said defensively, "we think that's part of the reason you were attacked. We have some scouts, in the wardens, who just arrived back at Ostagar this morning. They said Howe has sworn allegiance to Loghain, and voluntarily became his thrall. He's... he's going to be at the peace talks tonight."

"Why--" she reeled slightly, "Why would you tell me this? I can't-- I won't--"

"Janna, breathe-- please, I didn't tell you this to upset you, I just,"

He reached out to put a comforting hand on her and she reacted without thinking. Locking her wrist over his, she hooked one leg behind him, sweeping his ankles out from under him and knocking him off balance. Feeling him beginning to go down, she hooked her hip under his, and threw him over her shoulder.

He landed flat on his back, his mouth gaping in surprise, as Janna went full reaver.

 

 

"Janna, put the gun down," Alistair spoke slowly and calmly, watching with wide eyes as her shoulders heaved from the effort she'd just exerted, "Don't shoot. I didn't mean to hurt you, or touch you without your permission-- just relax, alright?"

A wild look in her eyes told him that she was still in full swing, overtaken with emotion and clearly very conflicted. She was huffing her breaths, a low snarl gathering in the back of her throat.

" _If I see him tonight, he will die,_ " she growled around her bared fangs, " _That is a promise_."

"I understand that, and I'll be sure to let Duncan know," Alistair answered with a nervous chuckle, his eyes still following the shaking barrel trained on his head, "Just-- Please, put the gun down."

She seemed to debate with herself for a moment, before the cloudiness in her eyes began to melt away. Her arms slackened as if she dropped a heavy weight and she let the pistol fall with a clatter to the floor, away from them both. She looked truly mortified as she folded to her knees.

He waited a moment longer before sitting up to look her over; she stared blankly at her hands, now shaking violently. She felt his eyes on her, however, and when she looked up she attempted to explain herself through rising hysterics.

"I didn't-- I wouldn't have-- The safety, it was--"

"I know," Alistair gulped a breath, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, her eyes welling with tears.

"Can I... Come closer?" He asked carefully.  
  
Again, she nodded quietly.

Rising to his knees, he scooted closer to her, putting a hand on each shoulder. She met his gaze, and whispered, "I'm a monster. I'm so sorry, I never--"

He shook his head in answer, pulling his jacket sleeve up to reveal his own brand; a crown, with a deep scarred ex _carved_ through it.

"If you're a monster, then I'm one too. We all have our own scars to bear, Janna. Don't ever forget that."

 

 

it was then that the metal door swung open and Duncan descended upon the two.


	5. Humans can afford to have morals

"Is everything alright?" Duncan asked, an eyebrow quirking up to show his surprise at the current situation. Alistair practically launched to his feet, giving Duncan a firm nod.

"I-- ah, I told her... about Howe."

Duncan sighed, shaking his head, "Ah. And how did that turn out for you?"

Alistair's cheeks flushed slightly, "a-ah well, about as expected."

Janna looked utterly confused, "As expected?! I threw you down and pointed a gun at your head!"

This was greeted with a laugh from behind Duncan as an unfamiliar platoon arrived.

"Did you tell her what happened when you went full reaver, Al?" A burly man from the new group interjected with a grin.

"Shut up, Bo--" Alistair mumbled, clearly embarrassed as Janna turned back to him, "I... Let's just say mine was a bit... worse."

The man he'd called Bo outright laughed, stepping forward to help her to her feet, "He stole a van and flipped it, after beating the shit out of a senior officer. It was spectacular, really."

Janna didn't know that Alistair's face could go the shade of red it did.

"Really, I'm just sad we missed this one. Seeing Al all belly up, would have been great," Bo continued, hauling Janna up with a little grunt, "Welcome to the Wardens, missy."

"Thanks," she nodded, looking over the group before her.

Bo was the tallest of the troop, towering and burly, his shoulders thick with corded muscles. Beside him was a lean elf, utterly androgynous and looking thoroughly nonplussed, their long hair tied in a loose braid on one shoulder. Another warden stood just in front of them-- a feminine dwarf with dark skull-esque tattoos along her cheeks and chin, which crinkled slightly when she smiled. There were a few others filing out the doors, but Janna lost sight of them as she overheard Alistair speaking to Duncan.

"It's good that the south scouts are back, but where are the new recruits?"

Bo interrupted, his loud voice carrying with surprising power, "they didn't make it, boy. Daveth didn't survive the joining, and when Jory watched him die, he pulled a weapon on us. Duncan did what he had to do."

Alistair nodded gravely. Janna was appalled, however.

"That's it?" She asked in disbelief, "two men are dead, and all you can say is that _Duncan did what he had to do_?!"

Bo raised an eyebrow at that, "And what would you have him do instead? If Duncan had died, we'd be in a lot more trouble than if he defended himself. We do what we must."

She shook her head, "Then what, two men just die, and that's it-- we're absolved of any guilt or wrongdoing for it?"

"I assume you didn't know that when someone is promised to the Wardens, it's for both in life _and_ death. If the men couldn't take the joining, then they serve in other ways."

Bo tossed a translucent plastic bag to her, which she caught on instinct. The thick smell of blood filled her nostrils, and she was sickened to realize she was salivating.

"We have to feed, Janna, or the death is all in vain-- theirs as well as ours," Alistair said, quietly

Janna turned to face him, still clutching the blood pouch to her chest, "But--"

"When you're a human, you can afford to take the _moral_ high ground, missy," Bo interjected, brows furrowing, "But we're _far_ beyond that point now. I only hope you don't see a demonstration of what I mean tonight."

Bo pushed another blood pack into Alistair's hands before turning to go, "Get her prepared, Alistair. We go to war tonight."

And without another word, he and his troop disappeared up the stairs.

  
Only Duncan remained, giving Janna a little pat on the shoulder.

"I know this is difficult, Ms. Cousland... But I promise, the Wardens will do everything in our power to acclimate you to the new order of things," He said softly, waving Alistair over to finish their conversation, "But since you two are our junior-most members as it stands, I need you to be extra prepared for tonight. You have the range for a little while longer, yet-- practice until you are comfortable, then come find me. King Cailan would like to go over the security arrangements for the night."

 

Janna and Alistair practiced shooting at targets for another hour or so, as she attempted to ignore the blood packs calling out to her from her pocket.

"How long until I have to feed again?" She asked, breaking the tense silence at last when they stopped for the evening.

"Until you feel hunger again? Usually not for another two weeks, at least," Alistair shrugged, "Oh-- but we're always hungry after our first feeding, especially since its from one of our own."

She frowned, "Is that right?"

He nodded, "Feeding from one of us is like getting a watered down drink-- sure, it'll get you there after a while, but it takes a <lot> higher volume to get it done."

"Then I should--?"

"Wait," He pointed at her, interrupting the thought, "The packs they gave us are for tonight, before the ceremony. We'll bless them together, to honor the fallen."

_The fallen. Promised to the Wardens, in life as well as death._

A sickening thought occurred to her suddenly, making her heart hammer in her ears again.

"Alistair, can I ask you something? And promise you'll give me the truth?"

Her voice shook-- though with anger, fear, or sudden maddening hunger, she couldn't tell. They began to put away their supplies as they finished their training.

"Janna?" Alistair seemed concerned, as he replaced their pistols on the tall racks, "I guess so... what do you want to know?"

"Bo said that... .That those promised to the Wardens, they're sacrifices, both in life and after death-- right?"

"Right...?"

"So... You, or Duncan, you guys said that my mother.... she had the mark too, didn't she?"

Wordlessly, Alistair nodded, his pace even as they began to ascend the stairs.

"So did she...? Did the two of you--"

"Oh-- No!" Alistair finally connected her train of thought, throwing his hands up in protest, "No! Duncan knew we'd have something lined up before the gig tonight, and I had to feed to turn you, so-- We also didn't think it'd be fair to you, to-- No, we didn't, out of respect."

"I-- oh, well, good--" Janna felt a slight weight pulled from her chest, "You don't know what a relief that is to me, thank you..."

"Do you really hate the Wardens-- what we are-- so much, that you're relieved we didn't _eat_?"

The question was sincere, and Janna could feel a tinge of hurt in his voice. Nonetheless she knew he deserved the truth.

"I--- I don't know, Alistair... that was my mother," She reasoned, "I feel like my old life was torn away-- robbed from me by Howe, but also a little bit by the Wardens, too. It's... complicated."

He seemed to deflate a bit when she finished the thought, so she managed to tack on awkwardly, "But-- I know, for sure, I don't hate you. And for now, that's going to have to be enough."

Almost dumbstruck, Alistair fumbled up the last few steps behind the shorter girl, not sure of how to reply. So instead, they walked together in tense silence, until they reached the original room they'd deposited their things in, to wait for summons from Duncan to begin the meeting with King Cailan.

* * *

 

The meeting with the King was held in a quiet room, sparse of people, in dim light-- King Cailan's security personnel stood back against the wall, listening intently as he began his speech, while Duncan, Bo, Alistair and Janna stood around a map in the center of the room.

On it was detailed the layout of the castle-- Security patrol routes, fire escape plans, location of emergency vehicles and many other bits of important information were detailed with color-coded trails and markers all across the board.

Cailan pointed back to it every so often as he spoke, sometimes to better articulate what he was saying-- but sometimes, also, it seemed, to simply punctuate his words. Janna tried desperately to focus on what he was saying, as she knew it was important, but all the while a little voice was nagging at the back of her mind.

_He looks awfully familiar; why can't I place him?_

Her inner monologue answered her own question sarcastically, _he's the fucking king._

 _I know he's the fucking king, but,_  she continued to argue with herself, _no, its something beyond that._

She zoned in to find his pale blue eyes focused on her as he asked, "Any questions?"

She nearly reeled in response, when the room resounded in a chorus of _no, my King_ 's, and the others clambered to leave.

"Wait, Grey Wardens-- I'd like to speak with you alone," Cailan called, waving Bo, Duncan, Alistair and herself to come closer. As soon as the room was clear, he bade Alistair to lock them in, before beginning his address.

"It has come to my attention that in my closest security, there may be some who plan to disrupt the talks tonight. I've asked for you Wardens specifically to see to it that nothing happens-- trust each other because you are not loyal to the others, or the crown, but to order. Tonight's talks _must_ succeed. I'm begging you."

Duncan bowed in response, "Yes, my King."

The pale blonde next turned to Janna and Alistair, giving them a small smile, "I hear you two are the newest of the recruits. Are you feeling alright?"

Janna nodded, and Alistair followed instinctively, unsure of why they were being recognized.

"I... have something of a special request, for you two," Cailan said, crossing the room to be near to them, "I want you two to patrol the north and south entrances to the room, where the meetings will take place. I know its a large scale route especially for two junior wardens, but--"

"Patrol?!"

Alistair's voice wrang out with a jolt that surprised everyone, even himself. He attempted to clarify, "We won't be in the room with you? And the rest of the Wardens--"

"They would be honored, your Majesty," Duncan interjected curtly, "We will do all that you have asked."

"Thank you," The young King couldn't help but grin, "Just having all you by my side is a great reassurance. You're all dismissed-- I'll see you tonight."

With a bow, the Grey Wardens exited, heading back down the hall to where the others waited, Duncan reprimanding Alistair quietly as they walked.

"You do _not_ deny a request of the King!" He hissed.

"But, Duncan--"

" _The King,_ " He cut in again, "Is why we are _here_ , Alistair. If he _asked_ us to, we'd have _you_ staying behind to entertain the troops, or driving a getaway car. _Do I make myself clear_?"

"I-- Yes, Duncan," Alistair answered, sounding utterly defeated, "You've made yourself clear. I won't bring it up again."

They arrived at a small chamber where the other Wardens were waiting, and together the comrades prepared for the evening's event. They blessed the blood and drank together, the heady stench overtaking the room-- Janna could tell Alistair was upset throughout the entire process, however, as he didn't make an off color comment for the entirety of the evening, instead leaning against any available surface, and staring sulkily at the floor.

Soon enough, King Cailan's guards came to fetch the Wardens, and they took their positions for the coming ceremony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured we'd need some other Warden side characters to make the coming scenes more believable-- so, i introduce to you, Bo! He just kind of came to me randomly-- the androgynous elf is another of my OC's, Poppoli Mahariel. They're not supposed to be a warden, but can sub as one when needed lol. 
> 
> as always, comments and questions are appreciated! I hope you enjoy what comes next!


	6. Going South Quick

Janna's fingertips buzzed painfully-- Alistair hadn't lied when he warned her that touching silver burned like hell-- she wondered what would happen if you were to touch it without protective coverings. Still, the pain wasn't enough to distract her from the sullen looks Alistair kept casting on the hall in front of them.

"Alistair, are you alright?"

"I-- yeah, I'm alright," He sighed, carding a hand through his hair as they walked the long path that wrapped around the ceremonial room, "I just... I can't believe Duncan would let the King tell us to stand outside and play guards for tonight. It just seems like a waste, you know?"

Janna put a hand under her armpit, attempting to readjust the leather supports on the holsters resting there, "I don't know-- It sounded like he trusted us more than his own security for the event-- doesn't that count for something?"

"Yeah, I guess... It just sucks, you know? We should be in there, with everyone else."

"We _will_ be with everyone else," Janna reasoned, "Once they're done talking. Come on-- the Wardens can't be all seriousness _all_ the time, right? After tonight, I bet we'll celebrate somehow."

"Most likely at a bar with plenty of other people," Alistair agreed, a small smile peeking on his lips for the first time in a few hours.

"Vampires can take alcohol, then?"

He rolled his eyes, "Of course we can. We don't abandon our roots completely."

"Well then, come on!" Janna smiled back at him, "I'll buy you a drink."

"I'll hold you to that," he chuckled, "And-- Janna, thanks. I'm glad that... That I'm not just patrolling out here alone."

"Me too," she agreed, unsure of just why she felt a light heat creeping to her cheeks.

They turned a corner then, and static crackled on the walkie-talkie at Alistair's hip-- it was Bo, making his regular check in with a lazy yawn.

"Anything to report?"

"Nope," Alistair chuckled, "Ghost town out here. Everything alright in there?"

"Same as ever--" came the response, "Pomp and circumstance wrapped in bullshit and empty promises."

"Of course," Alistair chuckled, "Did you expect anything else?"

"No-- these things are always the same," Bo chortled.

"Hey, Janna said she's buying drinks tonight,"

Alistair laughed outright when Janna made a face of protest, "Although maybe she's reconsidering that stance."

"Aye," came Bo's answer, "A smart bet, considering she's seen what we look like-- Maker knows how much we can put away."

Under her breath, hoping only Alistair could hear, she hissed, "I said I'd buy _you_ drinks, you ass."

He cheekily stuck his tongue out at her in response. _At least his spirits were back for the moment._

  
Suddenly a clatter behind them made Alistair and Janna whirl around, their senses igniting as the unmistakable smell of blood filled the chamber.

"What the _hell_?"

A single security guard clutched his sides, dragging his feet as he shuffled desperately toward them, the ground behind him trailed with blood.

"The others--" He rasped, pained grunts peppering his words, "They abandoned their posts! They're---"

He hacked, spitting blood aside as he collapsed to his knees. Janna rushed forward to catch him, holding his shoulders steady, "Shhh-- relax, please-- try to tell us what happened--"

"He's bleeding out, Janna," Alistair warned, helping her to move him back against the wall at one side of the hallway. He passed her the walkie talkie, "Call Bo, let him know that somethings happening-- I think I saw a first aid kit back to our left."

"There's no time," the man groaned, clutching his sides again, "I'm already done. Just-- Alert the others, please, before it's too late--"

Janna tried the walkie talkie, watching as Alistair turned his back to find the kit, "Bo? Bo-- It's Janna, something's going on--"

_Click_

The sound of a pistol cocking met her ears before she could fully process what was going on, "What the hell?! Oh _shit_ \-- Alistair, get down!"

She was in close enough range to give him a shove around the corner the rest of the way, a bullet grazing her shoulder as the security guard's shot pulled to one side. It burned intensely and she cried out in shock, her muscles spasming in response as they fell to the floor in a heap together.

"Janna--"

"I'm fine," She forced through gritted teeth, scrabbling to her knees, "I think he just winged me, that's all--"

Another growl rippled in her throat, "Aghh-- it burns like hell, though--"

The walkie talkie crackled as Bo tried to answer them, "What--- hell-- Janna? Is Alistair---? The connections-- Something---- Interfering--"

She passed the device back to Alistair as he helped her fully to her feet, checking her holsters once more-- she was down to one pistol. Of course.

"It was a setup--" She groaned, her fingers testing the area around the wound, "He fucking stole one of my guns-- it was silver-- no wonder it hurts so bad. They must have been taking out any of the other security who disagreed, and when he got hurt he decided to try and take us out--"

She was surprised to find blood leaking from her wounds. Wide eyed, she showed her fingers to Alistair for some sort of response, " _How_ am I bleeding?"

He was only half paying attention, however, as he desperately attempted to regain contact with the other wardens, "Bo! _Bo!_ Maker-- Fucking answer me, Bo! What is going on in there?"

Suddenly they could hear more gunshots going off down the hall, accompanied by shouts and a cacophony of other noises.

"We need to get in there," Alistair shouted, "Something's wrong, and I--"

More ricochets rang out, and the first wave of Cailan's security guards rounded the corner to them.

"Wardens!" they shouted, cocking their weapons in a frenzy.

"Stop, what are you doing?!" Janna cried out, "We didn't--"

"Janna, its a hostile takeover-- Get moving!" Alistair yelled, grabbing her hard by the arm and hauling her back from where the came. He took off at a run, pulling her along as quickly as he could, ignoring the now dead man who'd shot at them earlier, Janna's pistol still clutched in his hand, until they could see another hall branching off to the left.

"There should be an entrance to the ceremony hall down there," He grunted, "We need to find the others and regroup. Come on!"

"But--"

"We need to get them _out_ of there!" He shouted, drawing his guns as they rounded the corner. She did the same, following his lead and watching his back, her mind reeling.

They came upon the door at last, but as Alistair tried to open it, only locked resistance met him. He pounded heavily on the door and shouted, but to no avail.

"King Cailan-- Bo, Duncan, anybody?! We're being overrun-- We're under attack!"

"Alistair, we can't stay here and wait for them to open the doors, we've got to go--" Janna begged him, grabbing his wrist, "Come on-- if it _is_ a hostile takeover, then Loghain's probably behind it, and for all we know, _he's still in there_ \--"

"Then we need to help them--"

"Alistair!" She looked him hard in the eyes, pleading with him to stop. Her shoulder gave another painful throb.

He growled, desperate to not give up. Trying one last thing, he kicked the lock with all his might, and with a splinter the lock gave way. He shoved the door open, and pushed Janna inside, holding their weapons up in defense, until the carnage unfolded before their very eyes.

The room was spattered with blood, bodies littering the ground, and bullet cases left in trails told a story of things gone awry quickly. Scanning the room, Janna noticed in horror that Bo was crumpled against the back wall, looking hazily at the ground, gouge marks across his chest and legs.

"Maker-- Bo," She breathed, holstering her pistol and falling to her knees at his side, "Alistair! It's Bo--"

"Fuck," Alistair hissed, glancing back at the door he'd forced open. throwing a table in front of it to bar it closed, he joined them as Bo struggled to speak.

"Things went bad quickly," he groaned, blood seeping onto his hands as he held his stomach, doubled over as his breath came in raspy chokes, "When I got your call-- the one that was choppy as shit, I tried to get the King to leave, and Loghain-- he didn't like that. Howe said something about the Wardens trying to weasel away, and then--" He coughed, "Some sort of scuffle happened. Not sure who shot first, but, some of the other Wardens started reaving, and one of Loghain's men got me full in the chest. It's too deep, and it'd take too long for me to heal, though-- the fuckin' bastards got to Trin before she could take a look at me,"

He motioned to one of his fellow wardens, a healer, who lay face down and unmoving beside him.

"I'm as good as gone, kids. I only hope Duncan can get Cailan out of here in time."

"Bo, don't talk like that--" Janna began to protest, though Alistair nodded reluctantly, "Duncan has the King with him, then?"

Bo coughed, nodding as he did so, blood beginning to color his lips and teeth, "Damn right. Duncan moves quickly, and made sure to give one hell of a fight. By now I'd hope they were back to the throne room-- you two should head that way as well, I hear there's some cars waiting out front just beyond there, in case of emergency."

Pounding on the door behind them gave all the warning necessary. The security guards had arrived, and they meant to take no prisoners.

"Right," Alistair nodded again, clasping a hand on Bo's shoulder with a certain sad fondness, "Bo-- I'm so sorry."

"Fuck the theatrics, Al," Bo grunted, breathing heavily, "Just get your asses out of here, you got that? No heroics. I'll cover you two as long as I can."

"Bo, I promise, after we find Duncan, we'll--"

"Go!" he bellowed, as the doors trembled against the weight thrown their direction, " _Now!_ "

Alistair met Janna's gaze as the nodded in sync-- Bo was right, and prolonging the inevitable didn't seem like the best plan. Together they got to their feet, heading to the back door and away toward the throne room as had been suggested previously. As they slammed the door shut behind them, Alistair threw a decorative candlestick through the handles, securing against attack for a bit longer. He could hear gunshots going off behind them, however, and Janna could see he was hurting by the way   
he'd closed his eyes.

"Alistair, I'm sorry, but we've got to go--" She begged him, her voice wavering slightly, "Please, for Bo's sake, and Duncan's--"

His eyes snapped open.

"You're right," He nodded gravely, "Let's go."

They didn't look back after that-- simply drawing their weapons as they ran. Janna covered them from behind as Alistair charged ever onward.

The path forward was one with a few twists and turns, but around the last curve they ran into a second wave of security. Janna hesitated only for a second before they began raining fire down upon them, the security guards' firepower superior by numbers alone. She managed to hit a few and bring them down, she was proud to say, but Alistair was feeling off, and she could tell-- They ran off to a smaller room and out of sight, escaping through a nearby kitchen. Their pursuers were hot on their tails, but Alistair and Janna made use of a closet that Janna pulled her friend into at the last second. She held her bloodied hand to his mouth, willing him to be quiet, as they caught their breath in the utter silence.

_Please think we used the back door, please think we used the back door._

The statement was chanted in her mind like a mantra, over and over as voices outside debated over where to go and what to do.

"Flank them," came one response, as another shouted, "They've barred the doors from the other side-- come on! We can catch them in the next corridor!"

It sounded as though, after a few moments, they'd managed to elude the others. Janna finally pulled her hand away, relaxing against Alistair for just a moment, sighing, _thank the Maker._  Alistair's hand fell to rest gently on her back in response; her heart hammered in response, but she refused to look up at his reaction.

She glanced at the hand she'd used to cover his mouth for a moment, feeling bad she'd forced him to put up with that, but the pain in her shoulder had finally relented, and didn't seem to be bleeding anymore, thankfully. She could feel the tender skin bruising, but that would heal in time, as well.

She mouthed words to him, _Should we go?_

He nodded, almost mechanically.

Without another word, they slipped back out into the kitchen, and Janna cracked the front door to peek outside. The hall seemed clear, for the moment, much to her relief.

"I wish we knew this place as well as they do," She sighed, "We only got a brief look at the map, and now--"

"I know where we are," Alistair answered, quietly, "The throne room is just another two turns-- take a right, then down the hall on the left."   
  
"How do you--"

"I can't explain it right now-- we need to go," he sighed, shaking his head, "come on."

She nodded, following his lead as they exited the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, comments, questions and kudos are massively appreciated!


End file.
